


Things Unsaid

by mooglecharm (morphaileffect)



Series: CottageCor [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Fluff, Humor, I mean one-sided for now, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27062554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphaileffect/pseuds/mooglecharm
Summary: Ignis gets drunk on homemade wine and says some things. Cor proves he's a gentleman once again.
Relationships: Cor Leonis/Ignis Scientia
Series: CottageCor [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933300
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24
Collections: CottageCor





	Things Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> Just to emphasize: TW for alcohol and drunkenness, but no abusive behaviors.

There was probably never a good time to say aloud that Ignis had always had a sort of crush on Cor.

And there was probably not a worse time than when he was heavily inebriated on homemade apple wine.

Cor had _sworn_ it didn’t have a lot of alcohol. The formula was something he had perfected through years of trial and error, after a seemingly endless string of tragic batches that tasted like garula piss.

He had proudly presented that night’s batch to Ignis as “my best vintage.”

Of course, what counted as “best” or “having a lot of alcohol” to Cor might not count the same way to Ignis.

And Ignis was a lightweight. He hardly ever drank.

They were only drinking because Cor wanted "a nip" before they headed to Insomnia the following morning. He took out two clay glasses and invited Ignis to join him out in the front garden, and Ignis decided it would do no harm to oblige - as long as he kept his intake in check.

He did note that the apple taste was strong, though. Almost strong enough to make him stop mentally calculating the amount of alcohol that was in each glassful...

But not strong enough to keep his tongue from loosening, his inhibitions from melting to the floor.

“You’re telling me,” Cor laughed, as he refilled Ignis' glass, ”that in all your 27 years, _no one_ has ever caught your eye? _Ever?_ ”

Ignis didn’t like talking about personal things and would normally avoid such questions...but he had already had a couple of glasses of wine, and his fuzzy brain made Cor’s voice sound so _nice_. Made him sound so _safe_ to talk to.

And it wasn’t the first time he had ever made Cor laugh, but damn, this time it went straight to his head.

“There might have been one or two,” he said coyly. “You, for example - “

“What?” Cor interrupted.

The older man sounded genuinely surprised.

And that should have been a cue for Ignis to shut up.

But it just felt so _nice_ to keep talking.

“Well,” he said, allowing a stronger note of playfulness into his voice. “You can’t act so shocked, surely. In my batch alone, I recall there were at least _three_ cadets thirsting after you.”

Cor shifted uncomfortably, to Ignis’ amusement. Cleared his throat.

“I didn’t date within the Crownsguard...”

“I know you didn’t,” Ignis answered pleasantly. “I don’t believe you ever dated at all. Otherwise, news of it would’ve spread like wildfire among the ranks.”

Wait...that would hint that Ignis had been keeping tabs on his lovelife. Oops. Cor shouldn’t get that impression, because that wasn’t what happened. Not _really_.

Ignis had just been keeping his ears open for any news. He hadn’t actively sought out information.

Really.

“I put the question to you, sir,” Ignis deflected. “Did _no one_ ever really catch your eye, in all that time?”

Ignis held out his glass to be refilled, as he had been asked to do when he wanted more. Cor’s few seconds of hesitation should have told Ignis the older man thought he had had enough - but a lot of signals were escaping Ignis that evening.

He got his top-up, and that was what mattered.

“It just,” Cor muttered, “never was the right time.”

Ignis grunted in sympathy.

“I guess it was never the right time for you, either?” Cor ventured.

Ignis knew at the back of his mind that he was the one supposed to be asking questions. But the _front_ of his mind knew that he had been holding so many words back...and for the first time in a long time, it seemed like a good idea to get some things off his chest.

“I was 15 when I first noticed you,” Ignis said then. “Schoolboy crush. Didn’t know what to do with it. Formally joined the Crownsguard at 18, but duties over hormones, always. Pushed it all to the back of my head.” He took a another gulp of the gloriously numbing liquid. “And then...22. After the fall of Insomnia. A little voice in the back of my head said I should tell you what I felt, because anything could happen and we might not see each other again.

“But you know what? That same little voice said, ‘He’s “The Immortal.” As long as you stay alive, and keep Noct alive, our paths would surely cross again. He’ll be all right. There will be a better time. And when it comes, you’ll be older, and wiser, and have the right words for him.’”

He chuckled and raised his glass for an imaginary toast.

“Better time never came, clearly,” he said, just before a huge swig, which finished off the glass.

He held out his glass again, and Cor knew the drill.

“What would you have said to me...if you had the chance?”

What a silly thing to ask. They were already talking. Ignis was already saying all the stupid, reckless, _young_ things his sense of propriety had been keeping in from the beginning.

But Ignis had the words ready, and not letting them loose now would be a waste, wouldn’t it?

“I would have said...you always seemed as if you felt...that the fate of the Kingdom rested on you, on how well you did your job. And after Insomnia fell, it was as if you -”

It might have been too much to say. He heard Cor let out a breath.

So Ignis softened his voice a bit, changed gears.

“- I meant to say,” he began again, “you deserve...not to feel that way sometimes. You deserve rest. And peace. And the company of someone who knows how it feels...to bear the weight of everything.”

Did that even make sense?

“Ignis,” Cor quietly, soberly said, “you’re a little too young to carry the world on your shoulders.” Ignis heard him refill his own glass, but did not hear him drink from it. “Trust me, I know. I was young once, too, and by the side of a king. I made that same mistake.”

So he was pacing his own drinking. Clever. If this were an interrogation, he would have had the upper hand; Ignis would have failed at keeping the Kingdom’s most important secrets from him.

\- although it wasn’t like Ignis would have had to. There was little Ignis knew that Cor, as one of the King’s closest confidants, did not know. The gossip, intrigue, risks - they both knew them all.

They also did _not_ know the same things. They were both in the dark, during the days that led up to the fall of Insomnia. Yet somehow, it seemed logical they would share the same feeling of guilt, even after all that time.

And even if Cor’s words came across to Ignis as a _touch_ condescending, the younger man recognized that they came from a place of experience, of wisdom.

They assuaged the guilt, somewhat.

“Wasn’t talking about me,” Ignis lazily clarified, as he drank a fair bit more from his glass. “Meant...someone...anyone. Just someone who could...smooth out the lines on your forehead.” He giggled unself-consciously. “I wonder if you still have those lines...or if living on your own, out in the -- way out here, has made them all banish.” He held back a burp, barely, then corrected himself: “Vanish.”

Cor chuckled, took a leisurely sip of wine.

“I haven’t really been keeping track,” Cor quipped. “But I think I’ve added quite a few more lines, over the years.”

“Reasonable,” Ignis slurred. “But the blue of your eyes...that pale blue, like a clear morning sky...I still remember. Can’t imagine it fading. Not for anything.”

There was a long but comfortable pause, during which the soothing sounds of the forest surrounding them steadily grew louder.

And then, Ignis supposed, the night ended.

Because that was the last thing he perceived.

***

The following morning, Ignis woke in his bed - with a pounding headache and a desire to end it quickly, with a hammer.

But Cor kept all the hammers in his workshop/shed, and it was too far away. The slightest movement of Ignis’ head made him feel like he was going to fall into a very deep pit.

So, no to the hammer idea.

Despite the vertigo, he finally forced himself up to a sitting position when Cor came in with a bowl of what smelled like hot oatmeal and fresh fruits, and a tall clay mug of...water.

Ignis felt betrayed. After all his hard work teaching the man how to still make use of his stale beans...

“No good to have coffee on an empty stomach, in your condition,” Cor explained, as he gently took the half-emptied clay mug from Ignis, replaced it with a spoon, pushed the bowl of oatmeal and fruits into his other hand, and set the mug down on the nightstand - just beside Ignis’ neatly folded dark glasses, and within his reach. “You’re sitting out the day. Anything you’ve got planned, put it off until tomorrow.”

Ignis was about to ask Cor about last night - if he had said or done anything embarrassing, anything he needed to apologize for.

But the instruction to stay put tossed all the questions aside.

“I can’t afford the delay,” he protested. “If I waste another day, my plans may get thrown off...”

“Look, this is the beauty of living in a place like this,” Cor patiently argued. “Plans don’t matter here. Days are never wasted. Everything can wait.”

Ignis did not quite buy that, but Cor sounded absolutely sure, and that comforted him.

In his weakened state, he appreciated whatever comfort he could get.

“First thing tomorrow, we head for the Capital,” Cor declared. He patted Ignis’ shoulder. “And no wine tonight. Maybe when we come back tomorrow evening.”

“No thank you,” Ignis groaned. “No wine again _ever_.”

Cor laughed softly, his hand still on Ignis’ shoulder. And Ignis had a flashback to the lovely chuckle he heard last night, the warm feeling in his belly.

“Let’s see,” Cor replied. “You may change your mind once you’ve set foot in Insomnia again.”

It was a grim pronouncement, and Ignis took it at full gravity.

He knew he needed to be ready.

So he nodded in acknowledgement and gratitude, and Cor quietly left him to eat breakfast in bed. Ignis slumped against the headboard, took a few deep breaths, and did his best to slow the sensation of the room’s spinning, before taking his first bite.


End file.
